


There was Love in Her Heart

by Eram_Quod_Es



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Marinette is Marin/Coccinelle and Adrien is Adrienne/Chat Noir, enemies!AU, more will be added as they appear - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eram_Quod_Es/pseuds/Eram_Quod_Es
Summary: Chat Noire was one of the more annoying villains Marin dealt with on a regular basis, besides his ever-expanding tardiness count and Chloé Bourgeois. But, even if she was more interested in flirting, Marin couldn't forget that Chat Noire was Papillon's ally.And that was unforgivable. Drabble series.





	1. Stray Cat

**Author's Note:**

> A fun AU idea I got while browsing tumblr and watching the show. While I was looking for similar stories (because pffft I’d much rather read it than write it aaaghh what are adjectives) on AO3, I came across some with Chat Noir as the villain BUT NOT ENOUGH. I also just like female Chat Noir and male Ladybug. I thought Coccinelle was also a very cute name, I just couldn’t fall in love with Ladybeetle. :(

Coccinelle was in rare form tonight, Chat couldn’t help but think, whistling as the boy wrapped his yo-yo around two lampposts and began walking backward, pulling the cord into a taut bowstring. With a twang Coccinelle shot upward, rocketing into the sky after the winged akuma of a scorned jewelry collector.

It seemed like a long shot, but somehow Coccinelle was able to overtake the monstrous bird and land gracefully on its back. The akuma replied with an angry squawk, flapping its wings and beginning to rise. If he wasn’t careful, Nevermore could flip over and turn him from a ladybug into a ladysplat.

That was a good one. Chat saved it for later, in case the occasion ever arose where it could be useful banter. There were at least three notebooks filled with similar content stashed under the bed where Nathalie couldn’t find them.

Coccinelle’s cry of “Lucky Charm!” reverberated from the sky, a spiral of red light revealing, of all things, an anchor. There was a second where Coccinelle’s masked face looked a little dumbstruck by the item (“How cute!” Chat whispered, because _it was_ , okay? He got some weird items sometimes, and his thinking face when he was figuring out how to use them? _Adorable_!), followed by horror as the anchor easily pulled the Nevermore akuma to the brightly-lit streets of Paris.

Just when Chat was sure Coccinelle would not have a chance to ever hear ‘Ladybug, ladysplat, get it? Get it?!’, he flung his yo-yo out and pulled himself free of Nevermore. The giant bird crashed into the road, crushing an abandoned car. A small purple box fell away from the bird’s cage-like chest, now crumpled in like a nest of dark needles. Coccinelle’s foot easily crushed the box, releasing the evil butterfly inside.

Chat sighed as she watched the Papillon’s butterfly become cleansed. He wouldn’t be happy, though sometimes she wondered if he reveled in shouting his revenge one-liners into her ear a little too much. While it was always fun to watch Coccinelle in action, she had a job to do.

“Nice work again, Coccinelle,” she complimented, leaping from her hiding place and down onto the sidewalk in front of him. “Though maybe we should start calling you Ladybird instead?”

The groaning from the akuma victim was definitely from his disorientation, rather than her amazing pun, she was sure.

“Chat Noire,” Coccinelle shouted, the charming smile he always wore after freeing the purified butterfly and reversing the damage it caused quickly falling away to be replaced by a scowl. “Decided to slink out of your hole today?”

“You could say I’m on the prowl,” she winked at him, readying her staff. “I saw a little bug flying around, I couldn’t help myself!”

Coccinelle rolled his eyes (his big, beautiful blue eyes, her mind helpfully supplied). “What do you want? If you’re here to try to steal the miraculous again, I’m going to have to take a raincheck. I’m on a tight schedule.”

She could almost feel her long blonde hair bristle. She hated being brushed off, especially by Coccinelle. He was cute and courageous and clever and intelligent and—okay, okay. He was great, but that didn’t make him—oh wait. Ohhh yes. That was a good one.

“Don’t think you’re the cat’s meow just because you beat a weak akuma like this today,” she said. Yes. Perfect.

Coccinelle gave an even bigger eye roll (and why was he smirking?!) before slowly beginning to spin his yo-yo, legs easing into a battle stance.

“That’s more like it,” she said, tightening her own grip on her staff. “Shall we dance tonight? The moon is out, the Seine is sparkling, and it’s just you and I—“ Another groan in the background. “And whoever he is.”

“How romantic, kitty,” Coccinelle said, unimpressed. But he still launched himself forward, smirk widening his lips.

It was a beautiful night to catch a stray cat.


	2. Nuisance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Coccinelle thinks about Chat Noire, but not very fondly.

If he could describe Chat Noire in one word, it’d be ‘nuisance.’ Perhaps it was a little mean, but it’s all he could think of as she swung her staff at him, golden hair flying like a small supernova as her body followed through the strike. She could be a formidable opponent when she put her mind to it, but most of the time her attacks seemed half-hearted. Like now, as she brushed her shoulder with his and leapt back, not unlike a cat batting at its toy before jumping away to ready another pounce.

Her cockiness was his advantage, though. He spun around, whipping his yo-yo out and wrapping it around her legs as she tried to flee. Chat Noire tripped, colliding painfully with the ground. Coccinelle didn’t allow her a chance to break free, instead heaving the yo-yo around in a circle, Chat still attached and flying through the air. He gained momentum and tossed her roughly into a roof across the street, where she lay still for a moment, stunned.

“I thought cats landed on their feet!” he shouted up to her, retracting his yo-yo.

“You – hurgh – already – haaahgh – used that one,” Chat spluttered, trying to catch her breath. 

The tiles on the roof had cracked under the impact. Coccinelle wished he hadn’t already used Miraculous Ladybug. That was another annoying thing about Chat. She liked confronting him at the worst times, like now, when he’d just finished an akuma fight and was practically running on empty. Yet still she fought with the type of lackadaisical vigor a bored housecat might. And the collateral damage from their fights often couldn’t be fixed.

“Oh good, then you know what happens next,” Coccinelle replied, smiling as he tossed his yo-yo to catch on a nearby chimney, pulling himself up before rapidly catching onto another chimney several rooftops away.

“Agh! Don’t run, we were just getting started!” he could hear her shout. “And come up with some better lines!”

He couldn’t help grinning as he dropped down and slunk into an alleyway to hide the bright light of his de-transformation. It made her so mad when he ran, it was almost cute. She almost got the same sort of pout on her face as Adrienne in one of her perfume ads. Oh, _Adrienne_ …

“Marin!”

He snapped out of it, opening his eyes as Tikki zipped into view.

“I know who you’re thinking about,” she giggled. “You always get that same silly smile on your face!”

He felt his face and, ah, yep, he really was grinning from ear to ear.

“Sorry, Tikki,” he muttered, ruffling his dark hair as he wandered out of the alley and onto the open streets. Everything had gone back to normal, like always. The people that Nevermore had turned into shining gem stones for his collection were peacefully wandering around the streets, and the several buildings that had suffered collateral damage were repaired without any evidence of the previous turmoil.

It always felt a bit baffling to see the devastation and watch it be wiped clean. Sometimes he wished he could use it to repair broken things outside of akuma fights. Perhaps he could? But he knew Tikki’s answer in his heart. Some things were just meant to be broken. Magic wasn’t a cure-all.

He froze as he heard a thump above him, catching a glimpse of a dark tail dipping out of sight. Chat Noire was looking for him.

“How persistent,” Tikki said from under his jacket’s collar.

“Yeah,” he agreed absentmindedly.

A real nuisance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Here’s a little continuation of the last one from Coccinelle’s POV. In the timeline in my head, this takes place around the middle-ish part of their relationship. They know each other, they’ve fought against each other plenty, but have no real way of connecting with each other, hence Coccinelle’s poor view of Chat Noire (mixed with a slight hint of fondness ;3). All of Ladybug’s fights with Chat Noir have him get trounced by her a lot, so I didn’t feel bad about Coccinelle giving her a smackdown.


	3. Two Halves of the Same Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marin debates the appropriateness of cheese wheels as a gift of gratitude and Chat Noire kiss kiss fails at love.

\- - -

_"And after I played them both a few times, I realized they were two halves of the same song."_

\- Amy Tan

\- - -

Marin sighed as he caught another waft of delicate Gabriel-brand perfume. Was this the smell of spring-time romance? An ethereal veil of perfection affecting all his senses? It was surely heaven, even as the paper it flittered from was dotted with neatly-written chemistry notes that could be detailing a demonic akuma-summoning ritual for all he knew about it.

“I can’t believe Adrienne gave you her notes!” Alya whispered in his ear. “Nice work!”

“Yeah…,” Marin said, the smile on his face distant and dopey as he recalled Adrienne quietly sliding him her notes on his desk after he’d made a fool of himself trying to slip into class unnoticed. He’d managed to trip and somersault over two desks. There’d been a slight smile on her lips, not unkind. As he looked at the top page, he could see a small note in the corner stating, ‘I took pictures of them already. You can keep them,’ followed by a small doodle of a cat head.

He wanted to design an outfit with that very same cat head. It would be cute, with maybe a green and black theme. Maybe a sleeveless hoodie with cat ears? And infused with that wonderful perfume.

“Earth to Marin, you there?” Alya asked, waving her hand in front of his face.

“I’m going to laminate them and pin them to my wall,” he replied.

Alya gave him a strange look, the one that usually meant he was being ‘weird but hey what were friends for if not to put up with ridiculous daydreams about crushes.’

“That’s great and all, but what about Adrienne? This is your chance!” Alya said, glasses almost slipping off her nose in her excitement.

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ ,” she hissed, “Wouldn’t it be _nice_ if Marin gave Adrienne some home-made macarons to say thank you for the notes? In person?!”

“Yeeeeah?” he said before pausing to really think about what his best friend was saying. “Oh. OH. Yeah, I mean—yes, yes! I can ask my dad to help and—“

What if Adrienne didn’t like macarons?!

“What if Adrienne doesn’t like macarons, Alya, what do I do?! Cookies? A cake? Who gives someone cake for class notes? Not that Adrienne doesn’t deserve it because she does but oh my god Alya what if she’s allergic to dairy and—“

“Considering half the time she smells like Camembert I don’t think you have to worry.”

“Maybe a cheese wheel?!”

“That’s a little much.”

“Tiny cheese wheels?”

Alya grabbed Marin’s shoulder’s to steady him and said firmly, “Give her. The macarons. Do it.”

Marin took a deep breath and nodded, steeling his resolve just as Adrienne and Nino walked back into the classroom. Afternoon classes were about to begin, and if Marin didn’t want to be grounded again, he’d have to actually stay and not rush home immediately to ask his dad about macaron recipes.

\- - -

Of course, Marin could always get out of class if there was, say, an akuma victim bent on destroying all tourists so she could get through her morning commute in peace.

Unfortunately, it also meant Marin was ducking into the boys’ restroom while the rest of his class scattered into the courtyard. Besides his classmates thinking he got a case of the trots every time Paris was threatened by a supervillain, transforming in the bathroom was a bit unglamorous.

He pushed the door open, keeping a wary eye out for anyone spotting Coccinelle sneaking out of a school bathroom while Paris was being ravaged by the world’s worst case of road-rage. The coast clear, he whipped his yo-yo around an overhang and ascended to the school’s roof, on the lookout for the akuma’s path of destruction.

Only to crash head-first into Chat Noire, who had apparently been wandering around on the roof as well.

“Aahh, it’s only noon but you’ve already fallen for me, my lucky charm,” Chat Noire said, face bright as she grinned up at Coccinelle. She narrowed her luminescent green eyes. “Care for a late lunch with me?”

“Sorry kitty, I’ve got other plans,” Coccinelle said, pushing off of the other and jogging for the edge of the roof. Just as he was about to jump, a metal staff hurtled past him, narrowly missing his head.

“Not even a kiss goodbye?” Chat Noire called, body relaxed despite the powerful javelin throw she had just unleashed.

Coccinelle ran a hand through his hair, tousling the dark strands as he side-eyed the black cat miraculous holder. “I’m not interested in kissing strays.”

Chat Noire’s face flushed pink, eyes drawn to Coccinelle’s ruffled hair. She couldn’t find her voice for half a beat, but eventually uttered, “I’ll be your housecat any day.”

Coccinelle couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Chat Noire sleeping in his window and jumping on the small kitchen counters in his house above the bakery. His mom and dad would be delighted to spoil such a skinny cat.

But, that could never be. Sometimes Coccinelle forgot that despite the friendly banter, Chat Noire was his enemy. She could be funny and oddly endearing sometimes, and perhaps even do some good every now and then. But she was still after his miraculous, an ally of Papillon. There was no room for fondness here.

It was just so hard, sometimes. Tikki had said he would have a partner. Wasn’t that Chat Noire? It felt like…like he’d known her forever, like they were inevitably drawn to each other. Some days it was hard not to look at her and think she was his friend.

“Perhaps another time,” Coccinelle replied, face morphing from playful to solemn. “I have a city to save.”

He jumped from the roof, and felt oddly disappointed when Chat Noire didn’t follow. Why had she been there? She was so frustrating. Couldn’t she make up her mind? Was she his enemy or not?

It hurt to think about her, his missing half.

\- - -

He had burnt his first batch of macarons when he had become too involved in drawing up his new clothing design. The second batch had fallen on the floor when he tried to pull it from the oven. On the third batch, his father had placed his hands on his shoulders and said, “Please, Marin. We’re running out of space in the trash can.”

With his father’s help, Marin had made a perfectly respectable-looking batch of green macarons (“ _The exact shade of Adrienne’s eyes, dad!_ ”) and placed the box on top of his school bag so he wouldn’t forget it in the morning.

He woke bright and early, feeling refreshed and impossibly excited, and valiantly brushed his hair while Tikki spoke words of encouragement. He left the bakery early, met up with Alya, and waited by the school’s doors.

He was alternating between waves of confidence and panic, with Alya buoying along the surface to keep him grounded.

“Alya, you’re my best friend, right?” he asked for the twentieth time.

“Yes, Marin. I’m also not your delivery girl so if you ask me to give Adrienne your macarons again I’m going to make you proofread all of my blog articles for the next year.”

That would be too great an amount of second-hand embarrassment for him. Alya’s descriptions of Coccinelle’s heroics sometimes went deeply into the realm of purple prose. She thought he had a great ass, for one.

Adrienne’s car pulled up at that exact moment, and Marin forgot to breathe as she opened the door, blonde hair shining in the sunlight and green eyes (“ _They must be the exact same shade, dad!_ ”) glittering. He’d written embarrassing poems about her before, but seeing her made him want to write them all over again.

“Go get her!” Alya encouraged, pushing Marin down the school steps. He almost fell, but caught himself on the third step and clumsily thundered down the rest before coming to a juddering halt in front of Adrienne who was _wow_ closer than he thought aaaaaaaaaah—

“I, ah,” he started, searching for what to say as Adrienne waited expectantly for him. “I got you ronmacs—I mean! Macarons. I made them and brought you here to them, for…macarons. You.”

He could see Adrienne’s lips twitch. Was she weirded out? Was she going to set her bodyguard on him?

_Be brave_ , he could remember Tikki saying that morning.

“Thank you for, for the notes. Yesterday,” Marin finished, shoving the box into Adrienne’s hands. Oh god he’d ruined it.

Adrienne smiled at him, gently opening the box’s lid. Marin could feel his heart melt and freeze. What if she didn’t like them? What if she did?! Could he make them again but in a different color? What if she had _actually_ wanted a cheese wheel?!

Her eyes widened at the sight of the macarons, and he could hear her inhale their sweet scent. “They smell delicious. Thank you, Marin, really.”

He felt like his face was going to explode with the heat of excitement and embarrassment and pride, until Adrienne’s smile turned slightly wistful. “I’d love to try them. I’ll have to ask the chef to include them in my meal plan.”

“Not even one now?” Marin asked thoughtlessly, a little perplexed until he caught sight of the severe-looking woman frowning behind Adrienne, tucked away in the shadows of the car interior.

“I’ll definitely try them later,” Adrienne replied, smile returning. She turned and handed the box of macarons to the woman in the car before closing the door. To Marin, it felt like his gift had just been snatched up by a spider peeking out from the shadows, but he tried not to feel disappointed. She had said she’d try them!

Marin practically vibrated in his seat the rest of the day, Alya sending him knowing winks while he stared at Adrienne and Nino chatting in-between classes. When he got home, his father asked how it had gone, and he relayed the tale, slightly embarrassed when his mom and dad inched closer and closer to each other until they were practically fusing into each other’s hip bones in their delight.

“I just wish I could have known if she really liked them,” he admitted at the end.

His mother and father looked at each other knowingly but didn’t say a word.

The next morning, his dad had placed a small cardboard box in his hand and told him to be careful on the way to school. He wanted to know what was inside, but his dad had placed a large “To Adrienne” sticker on the lid. Alya had to tear the small box from his fidgeting hands and toss it on Adrienne’s desk just as she entered the classroom. Marin’s silent scream was swallowed as Adrienne immediately took notice of the box and lifted the lid to examine the contents.

It was one of the extra green macarons that hadn’t fit in the other box. The top had been decorated with black icing and looked like the small cat head design Adrienne had left on her chemistry notes. Marin was sure he’d left them in his room, but maybe his father had seen it while he was drawing the other night. She looked up and smiled at him before giving a nervous look around; coast clear, she quickly took a bite of the macaron, face lighting up.

“It’s delicious, Marin,” she said, face radiant despite the small green crumbs decorating her lips. 

He just about combusted right there, sure his heart would pound out of his chest and race across the streets of Paris. How strangely fulfilling to see her smile at him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Nathalie def ate all those macarons herself.**
> 
> I was trying to think of a replacement for ‘My lady,’ and even thought about having Coccinelle say it instead. But in the end, I wanted Chat Noire to retain her cheese levels. :D ‘My lucky charm,’ sounds really cute, I think. Her alternatives are ‘lucky bug,’ ‘red,’ and ‘charming beetle.’ Or something like those! I’m bad at this.
> 
> I hope you guys liked all the copious amounts of fluff. I wanted to convey the paradox of Marin’s disappointment in Chat Noire and yet utter elation at Adrienne. I’ll be honest and say I am not too big a fan of Marinette’s current characterization in the show, and sincerely hope she gets some better character growth in the future. My friend, who doesn’t watch the show but reads anyway, asked me if I could find a way to make Marin/Coccinelle more relatable. I tried my best!


	4. M i r r o r r o r r i M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrienne describes a normal day and may have some inner demons to answer to.

In her dreams, all she heard was whispers.

Faint, diluted words floating milky in the mire of her dreams. She sometimes forgot what it was like to dream without them, their silky syllables sliding through her mind, snake-like and coiling.

Whispers, always whispers. The fluttering of butterfly wings, delicate and ephemeral. What did they say? Were they memories, half-remembered delusions? Were they real?

Maybe she was going crazy. That’s how it felt, the chittering of words an infestation. They ate and ate and ate away at her, slimy, cold, like fingers reaching up from a mountain lake. If only she could grasp them.

Her heart told her to follow the words, but a shadow in her heart resisted. It was dark like coal, a tiny specter, and when she wanted to give in, it told her to keep trying. If she could do her best, then there would never be a reason to be afraid.

\- - -

Adrienne awoke most mornings the same way: an alarm clock blaring, her mobile’s timer dinging relentlessly, and a headache that niggled the back of her mind like a shirt just slightly too small.

She’d rise, go to the bathroom, and stare at herself in the mirror. The staring was more of a recent thing, if she was honest. It was hard not to, when all she saw in the mirror each time was her mother, seventeen, vibrant, disappointed.

If she knew what Adrienne was up to on a regular basis, would she approve?  Would she tell her it was okay, that following her heart was the right thing? But her heart wanted her mother. How could it be right when everything was so wrong.

After getting dressed she went to eat breakfast in the large, empty dining hall. Nathalie would enter and exit periodically, carrying things, or looking sharp, like a needle seeking cloth. After that, she would spend her remaining time coaxing Plagg out with wedges of Camembert. He definitely didn’t like her. But she really couldn’t blame him. She had betrayed him, perhaps betrayed all miraculous holders, by being selfish.

Being true to her heart? It only meant disappointing the ones she loved.

At night, sometimes she’d lay awake, staring at the shadows on her ceiling, seeking an answer. There was nothing, had always been nothing. Her life was empty, like a shell or a doll. She wanted her back. That’s all she could think. If mother came back then father would come back to her too. He wasn’t far, but the distance between them might as well have been an intraversible abyss.

They were her life. If they came back, she could be Adrienne and not feel any regret.

She knew Nino would scold her for thinking like that, but she couldn’t help feeling that way in the dark, twilit hours. Chat Noire was different from Adrienne. Strong, confident, assured of who she was. But even that was simply an illusion in the end, dust and mirrors conducted masterfully by Plagg.

After Plagg settled into her bag, she’d leave for school and meet Nino near the entrance. And sometimes Alya and Marin would stop by, and she’d try to talk to Marin, though the boy seemed to have difficulty speaking to her for some reason. And then school ( _still so exciting, so wondrous—she had friends? She really had friends!_ ) would start and she’d lose herself to memorizing equations and passages of literature.

Addrienne’s waking life was normal. As normal as she could ever ask for when she was the daughter of Gabriel Agreste.

She clutched her head over the sink, water from the faucet gushing out. A pleasant white noise as she stared herself in the eye, fighting to drown out the aftertaste of dreams, whispers and whispers and whispers—

She realized, staring at herself in the mirror, that the only person in the mirror there to judge her was her own reflection. Mother was gone, like smoke in the wind. And the Adrienne in the mirror? She found her wanting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **“WHEN WILL MY REFLECTION SHOW WHO I AM INSIIIIIIIDE” – Adrienne Agreste**
> 
> Enjoy some Adrienne perspective! Are the whispers important? Does Adrienne floss?? Who knows! You certainly won’t find out here.


	5. Her Gratitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrienne wonders about Marin and Marin is overly-friendly with the floor.

Sometimes she wondered if Marin still secretly hated her, after that first disastrous day at school. It had been an accident—no, it had been Chloe, but still—Marin had seen her with her hand on the gum left specifically on his seat. The look he had given her then…

For years, Adrienne had wanted to go to school. Learning new things, seeing new people? It sounded so wonderful. Even if it was hard work, she wanted to try to be a normal kid. Somehow, in her mind, she hadn’t pictured herself into the equation.

Her with other kids? Talking to them? Getting to know them? Seeing them every day? Being judged by them?

It was terrifying.

Caged up in her father’s doll house, she could look out and see the world go by, and picture all the happy families and lives happening in the vast, cobbled swaths of Paris. And she’d wanted to be part of it _so_ badly. But being part of that machine that rotated a separate path from her own home was like being the last runner in a race, panting and sweating just to try to catch up.

Her classmates had all known each other for years. They had feelings and memories she could never understand. Chloe and Marin’s conflict was not her own, and yet she’d dared to step in, because—because it had been the right thing to do.

Seeing Marin’s eyes look at her like she was trash? It had hurt. The thought that finally crossed her mind after the whirlwind of school and becoming Chat Noire was that she could pretend all she wanted, but she’d always be different. And the possibility of being hated had suddenly become very real.

Marin seemed to have forgiven her, but still acted awkwardly whenever they met. She worried that it was because of the past, but he always did such nice things for her. She tried to smile at him whenever he managed to lock eyes with her, and never declined if Nino, Alya and Marin wanted to try going somewhere after school (if her schedule permitted). Even now, there was a wrapped box on her desk, delicate bow keeping the flimsy sides from bursting apart.

When she picked it up, eyeing the hastily scribbled ‘ **To Adrienne from Marin <3 <3 <3**,’ she glanced up to see Alya capping a black marker and…ah, yes, there he was. Marin had fallen out of his seat again.

“Are you okay?” she asked, starting to move to help, but Marin’s hand shot up in the air, waving frantically.

“Fine! Me fine! I uh, drop, something dropped me, I mean **I** dropped something don’t worry!”

She saw Alya smack her forehead and mutter to herself. Maybe Marin had lost one of his earrings? They were cute and it’d be a shame to lose one.

“I hope you find it,” she said, turning her attention back to the gift. She was about to unwrap it when the teacher walked in, announcing for everyone to be seated and _please Marin_ for the last time, get _off_ the floor before I install your desk with a seat belt—.

Adrienne sighed and placed the box on top of her bag. Maybe it was better this way. If she’d opened it, Chloe might have decided to take whatever was inside.

As the teacher started to write on the board, she pulled a piece of paper out of her bag. The school tablets made paper somewhat unnecessary, but it was always handy to have a pad lying around, and it was easier for her to memorize lessons quickly when she wrote. She quietly asked to borrow Alya’s marker, and, tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated, scrawled a loopy ‘Thank you!’ with a sloppy cat head and paw print next to it.

She could hear Nino snicker but chose to ignore him as she folded the note and quietly slid it behind her, trying not to draw the teacher’s attention.

Sometimes she thought Marin might still hate her. But sometimes, on days like this, she was proven wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I graduated, got sick, and have been fixing my house and getting ready for job applications. x-x I'm out of the Miraculous groove I was in, but I shall claw myself back! Next time expect some action!! (*sweats heavily* which I can't write f-fuckie)


	6. Rapt Confliction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chat Noire finds hope just out of reach, as always.

Papillon contacted her sparingly, the screen on her baton dark with only the moonlight glow of butterflies passing through every now and then, their ambiance briefly lighting a masked face with dark, dark eyes. If it was really urgent, he’d project his voice into her mind, like a worm rattling around inside her skull. But mostly, just like now, he spoke to her through that small, shadowy screen.

“What do you need?” she asked, not one to waste pleasantries on a man who wouldn’t waste his breath giving them back.

_“Chat Noire, I’m not sure you’re putting the right amount of effort into obtaining the Ladybug miraculous.”_

She bristled at the tone of voice: direct, condescending, bitter tea from a copper kettle.

“Oh?” she replied, feeling her wild mane of hair bristle slightly. (It was funny, she’d told Plagg once. She thought only Ghibli characters could do that, to which he replied, ‘What’s a Ghibli?’)

_“Your last three encounters have been…unsatisfactory. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were playing around more than trying to fulfill our bargain.”_

“I don’t see you fighting Coccinelle!” She bit out, gritting her teeth. After a moment of thought, she hastily added, “Face to face, anyway.”

_“That’s what you’re for, Chat Noire. You could be his equal!”_

“It’s not that easy,” she said. “When I fight him, it’s like all the world is against me. Bad luck can’t beat good luck.”

_“Not if you don’t try,”_ Papillon said, voice low. It almost sounded soothing, lulling her into a false haze, before she blinked and realized it was merely his power of influence at work.

She allowed a moment of silence to pass, in which time a glowing white butterfly flitted past the screen. Finally, she said, “We’ll see.”

\- - -

This time, Adrienne didn’t wait for Coccinelle to defeat Papillon’s akuma victim. She pulled Plagg from her purse, calling for him to transform her as he sourly dropped his wedge of Camembert. Her hair and tail barely had time to settle before she barreled off the roof, flipping over and landing in a roll in front of Coccinelle.

The akuma, a giant, red-wigged clown, readied a large flower.

“Agh, not you!” Coccinelle shouted, dodging a powerful blast of water that cracked the pavement and sent a blinding spray outward. He flipped backward as Chat rushed him, baton barely missing his neck. He swung his leg out when he landed, attempting to trip Chat and make a run for the roofs, but was foiled when the girl jumped.

“Get a life, hairbrain!” Coccinelle swung his yo-yo to catch Chat Noire by the foot. Even as the string wrapped around her ankle, Chat was swinging her baton down, hammering it into the road and gripping on as Coccinelle attempted to sling her away. His moment of inattention cost him as the akuma shot another blast of water from his flower, rocketing the hero across the street and through a store window.

Though Chat had managed to keep her position, Coccinelle’s violent departure sent her sprawling. She could feel her leg twinge where the yo-yo had been forcefully detached. She sucked in a breath, heaving herself up and gathering her baton again as Coccinelle emerged from the scattered wreckage of the storefront sporting a sodden sunhat, which he shucked off in distaste.

She charged again, swinging left and then feinting to the right to catch hold of the yo-yo as it descended upon her. Her baton was yanked away, but it allowed Chat to get in range of Coccinelle’s face, which she mercilessly swiped at with her clawed glove.

She drew blood.

Coccinelle’s cry was loud in her ears as she watched him stagger away in slow motion, droplets of blood spattering her face.

The sight of it on the black of her hand was startling. Adrienne couldn’t breathe as a droplet fell from a pointed claw, hitting the watery pavement and dispersing.

“I…,” she choked out, turning her eyes to Coccinelle. He was clutching his face, red rivulets running down his forehead and melding with the stark red of his gloves. “I didn’t mean…”

But she had meant it, she realized, watching him stagger up. She backed away, unable to take the look of fury in his eyes as he snapped his yo-yo up. They were cold and hard, the eyes of a predator. There was a red wolf in black spots standing before her.

“Lucky charm!” he called out suddenly, tossing the yo-yo into the air and releasing a burst of light. It coalesced into a small, rectangular object, difficult to see as it daintily dropped into the spotted hero’s hands.

Her chances were slipping away, she realized, watching Coccinelle’s eyes dart around.

“No, not this time,” she whispered, clenching her fist. She whipped around to grab her baton and began sprinting, locking on to Coccinelle as he leapt away from another haphazard spray of water. The clown akuma, taking his cue from her, began to close in as well, working from the other side to corral Coccinelle down the street.

She reached Coccinelle first, paying no mind as he stilled and readied himself to deflect her advance. She thrust her baton out, anticipating the staff to be caught again. Coccinelle could only work with one hand if he wanted to keep hold of his lucky charm.

He reached out and stopped the baton, just as she’d anticipated, his other arm held away, the spotted, rectangular object just barely visible.

“Cataclysm!” she cried, feeling the dark energy form in her open palm, crackling with fury. Chat lurched forward, swiping her hand at the lucky charm. She was so close! Her palm almost closed around it, and she could feel the triumph welling in her breast. Finally, finally things were going her way—

The clown akuma barreled into her, knocking her down. She watched in muted disbelief as her hand closed around a fire hydrant Coccinelle had been slowly backing up toward. The exterior disintegrated, releasing a burst of water that quickly soaked both her and the akuma on top of her. Coccinelle neatly stepped out of the way, fiddling with the lucky charm in his hand for a moment before unrepentantly firing the polka-dotted taser at them.

\- - -

Chat Noire awoke to a glittering stream of ladybugs flying past her, repairing the destroyed fire hydrant and cracked street.

She could hear faint cheering, and saw the flash of cameras recording the scene. She knew she should move, and yet all she could bring herself to look at was the sky, cloudy and grey. Everything felt so far away. The rush of blood in her ears, the ache of cold pavement on her hip, the tang of copper and metallic things thick on her tongue—these were peripherals in her mind.

All she could think, staring at the vast sky crowded in by low rooflines, was that she had lost.

She had tried, and she had lost.

Adrienne slowly lifted her arm up, the one she had clawed Coccinelle with. Where there had been blood was now merely faint, dark smears against the reflective material of her suit. Cataclysm had burned it away. She wasn’t sure if she should feel grateful or not. It was horrible, but it was also something she had managed to do with her own hands.

The beep of her ring woke her, and with a start she realized she had only two pads left on her ring. She painfully hauled herself up, silencing the crowd around her as the clack of her boots drew their attention. She glanced around for her staff and spotted it lying nearby. She limped to it, bending down and feeling the cricks in her back as she stretched. Baton in hand, she extended it and leaned on the pole, finally deigning to look up.

Coccinelle was staring back at her, yo-yo held loosely in his hand. He was surely running out of time, just like her. She wasn’t fooled, though.

For a moment, she contemplated the foolishness of trying one last rush. Use her pole to knock his yo-yo aside, push him over, and rip the earrings from his ears. She could see it in her mind, a perfect series of steps.

Chat Noire stared Coccinelle down for one second, and then two, drawing time out until half a minute had passed. She sneered, turned around, and extended her staff, lifting her onto a nearby roof.

Coccinelle let her run, shoulders relaxing as the head of golden-blonde hair disappeared. He breathed out a sigh of relief and made his own getaway, much to the disappointment of the gathered crowd, keenly aware of the time ticking down on his earrings.

The marks were gone, but he could still recall the memory of Chat Noire’s claws raking across his face. Even more clearly, Marin could remember the look of horror and desperation in her eyes. And at the end, the worn, fragmented despair.

\- - -

Adrienne released her transformation in an alley, collapsing against a wall and ruining her pants.

She felt too heavy to stand, knees weak and cold.

Plagg was a small speck at the corner of her vision. “Guess Coccinelle did a number on you today, kid.”

“I lost,” was all she said in reply.

Plagg merely shrugged, hovering silently and staring at her.

She felt like she should say more. She felt like Plagg _wanted_ her to say more, which was impossible, because Plagg never really wanted to speak to her anyway.

Unsure of what Plagg expected ( _an admission? An apology?_ ), she let her head fall back and stared at the sky again, slate grey and still over the bustle of afternoon Paris. A drop of rain hit her nose, and then another landed in her hair. A vague memory of this morning’s weather report flitted through her mind.

She didn’t feel bad about letting a tear or two leak from her eyes. If it was raining, Plagg wouldn’t know. But against the cold of the raindrops, she couldn’t ignore the burn of shame and fear that plagued each silent path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **That clown was def pissed off about a little kid kicking him in the crotch.**
> 
> Last chapter too fluffy for you? HAVE SOME EMOTIONAL STRUGGLE. Chat Noire likes Coccinelle, sure. But the urge to succeed doesn't leave you. Even then, Adrienne still has to live with the choices she makes, and even she's ambivalent about them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this series of drabbles! I don't typically write gender swap AUs, but I'm having a fun time thinking of little character twists. This is my first story in the ML fandom, so please be gentle. Follow me at eramquodeswrites.tumblr.com for sneak peeks and other works if you're interested.


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